Five Times Ten
by dragonchrysalis
Summary: Rose decides the TARDIS needs a proper infirmary, and it's a smart decision indeed. Five times Rose landed in the infirmary, and one time the Doctor did. Takes place at the beginning of Season 2, may follow some of the episodes in S2, may not. There will most likely be Ten/Rose shippy goodness.
1. Prologue - A Proper Infirmary

After all was said and done and the Doctor had saved the day again, Rose sat on the floor of the TARDIS, hugging her knees to her chest and watching the Doctor fiddle around with the sonic screwdriver while humming a merry tune. She couldn't get the image of her head of the Doctor sprawled out on the floor right where she was sitting, unconscious, only one heart beating. Dying. A vague thought meandered its way into her mind and she blurted it out, only half-thinking.

"We need an Infirmary." The Doctor glanced over his shoulder.

"A what?"

"An Infirmary, you know, like a proper hospital place." The Doctor's expression mildly resembled someone who had been slapped with a fish – taken aback and just a little disgusted.

"Now, why in the whole wide time vortex would we need that?" Rose rolled her eyes.

"In case one of us gets sick or injured, or…I dunno, a regeneration thing gone wrong again, there's no telling what could happen." The Doctor shut off the sonic screwdriver with a satisfying little snap and turned to face her with his manic grin.

"Ah, but you're forgetting! I'm a Time Lord, Time Lords don't get sick. Two hearts keep a lot more blood flowing to the immune system. Takes a hefty plague to wipe _us_ off our feet! None of those pesky sniffle things you humans always get."

"Alright then." Rose conceded, ignoring, for the moment, that he hadn't said it was _impossible_ for him to get sick, only that it would be difficult. "But I'm human, remember? I get sick. I get hurt. And I don't exactly have a sparkling track record when it comes to keeping out of trouble." The Doctor frowned and she knew she had made her point.

"You made a promise to my mum, right?" she barreled on, sensing weakness. "You said you'd protect me, well I don't see how you can protect me without proper medical supplies." She paused for a moment to let that sink in before she delivered the final blow. "You _are_ a doctor, aren't you?" His face flushed and she knew she had hit the jackpot. He hated when people doubted his ability as a doctor, medical or otherwise.

"Fine, alright then!" He threw up his hands and pretended to be annoyed, but secretly he was pleased. If Rose was requesting an Infirmary in the TARDIS, that meant she was planning on staying for a good long time. Enough time to get into trouble, anyway, which usually didn't take her very long.

The TARDIS began to tremble before he had even finished the thought. It shuddered, bubbled, and seemed to expand right before their eyes, drifting out of focus as it did so. When everything became clear again, there was a door that hadn't been there before, a plain brown door marked with a golden plaque. "INFIRMARY", it read, just in case they hadn't guessed.

"The TARDIS works fast." Rose remarked, and the Doctor laughed.

"Come on, Rose!" he cried joyfully, taking her by the hand. "Let's explore our new Infirmary – and let's hope we never have cause to use it."


	2. Brain Invasion

"Cassandra." Rose muttered, stomping through the TARDIS. "Cassandra, Cassandra, _Cassandra_." Her head pounded in time with her words, punctuating her annoyance.

"Persistent little thing, isn't she?" The Doctor's voice wafted over and quite suddenly he was standing next to her with that idiotic grin of his.

"Persistent? Yes. But I wouldn't exactly call her _little_." The throbbing in her head grew in intensity as she continued. "How is it that someone who is _literally_ no more than a piece of skin off someone's back can be so….."

"Nefarious? Creative? Creepy?" The Doctor suggested.

"All that and more." Rose sighed, as all the energy seemed to drain from her body. She swayed on her feet, prompting the Doctor to grab her around the waist to steady her.

"Are you alright?" She sagged into his embrace for a minute, and then allowed him to steady her.

"Fine." She managed. "Just a bit dizzy, that's all." The Doctor didn't look convinced. The man could be ridiculously obtuse at the worst possible moments, but when it came to Rose, it was like he had a sixth sense.

"Maybe you should sit down –" he started, but was cut off by Rose's spine-chilling scream. She sank to the floor and he gently lowered her down. "Rose, what is it, what's wrong?" He tried to sound calm. It didn't work.

"My head." She whimpered, cradling it in her hands. "It hurts so bad, Doctor, make it stop!"

"Shh, shh, it's okay, you need a Doctor, I'm here, it's all alright." He soothed frantically. He lifted Rose carefully, one arm around her shoulders and another under her knees, and sprinted for the Infirmary. Rose, disoriented by the pain and the sudden loss of gravity under her feet, let out one final moan and blacked out.

* * *

The next thing she was aware of was waking up with a tremendous ache in her head. She tried to sit up, but the movement sent a stabbing ray of pain through her head again and she cried out. Instantly, the Doctor was at her side, pushing gently on her shoulders, forcing her to lie back down.

"Shh, it's alright, Rose, you're in the Infirmary, I'm taking care of you, you're alright. Don't try to move too much, your head's been through a beating."

"What _happened_?" she ground out through clenched teeth.

"Cassandra." The Doctor answered matter-of-factly. "Side effect from her being in your head for so long. All your neural pathways and things got shoved aside rather roughly, I'm afraid. Your head just needs some time to sort itself back out again."

"But…..she was in your head, too."

"Not nearly as long. And I've got a Time Lord's brain, far superior to your puny bundle of nerves."

"Okay, your anatomy is far superior to mine, I get it." Rose winced as pain shot through her head again. "Can't you get me something for the pain? Please?"

"Your wish is my command!" Presently the Doctor rose and came back with two little white pills. "Here, take these." Rose eyed them warily.

"What are they?" The Doctor waved a hand vaguely.

"Oh, just bits and bobs of this and that. It takes something far stronger than acetaminophen to get rid of a headache like that; you had your brain invaded." Without further complaint, Rose swallowed the pills and immediately began to feel drowsy.

"Doctor!" she croaked, barely able to manage a whisper.

"Oh, did I forget to mention they're also laced with a sleep solution?" Rose would've glared at him if she had the strength, but consciousness was fading fast. The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"It's alright, Rose. Just sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up, I promise." And as he rubbed her shoulder, Rose drifted off to sleep, completely safe in the care of the man she trusted most.


	3. Exterminating Illness

Rose awoke slowly, like swimming to the surface of a pool. Her mouth was dry and her throat was sore. _Must've been breathing through my mouth again_, she thought groggily, and staggered to the bathroom.

Even from the bathroom, she could hear humming. She traced the sound to the little kitchen, where the Doctor stood, now whistling, wearing an apron and flipping pancakes lazily. When he heard her come in, he spun around so she could see the front of his apron. It read "Kiss the Cook".

She had actually considered doing just that, but she'd keep that to herself for now.

"Rose!" the Doctor cried joyfully. "_Fantastic_ apron, don't you think? Snuck off and bought it last time we went to see your mum. Didn't dare wear it around Jackie, though, she would've slapped me. Come, come! Sit down! I made your favorite – blueberry chocolate chip pancakes!"

"Look at you, being all domestic!" Rose teased as she sank down into a chair. The Doctor wagged his batter-covered spatula at her mockingly.

"Hey now, this is not, I repeat, _not_ domestic. This is culinary artistry, this is!" He slid a heaping plate of pancakes in front of her, dripping with butter and syrup. "Eat up!" He proceeded to take as twice as many pancakes for himself before taking the seat across from her.

She took a bite and chewed slowly. The pancakes tasted like sawdust. She moved them around her plate for a while, stirring them in the syrup absently before the Doctor noticed.

"Something wrong with the pancakes?" he asked. Immediately, she felt guilty. She had made him question his half-hearted attempt at domesticity.

"Not at all!" she managed, as brightly as she could. "I'm just…I'm just not very hungry, is all." The Doctor narrowed his eyes.

"Not hungry? For your favorite breakfast? Are you feeling alright?" Rose nodded, a little too quickly. She didn't want him fussing over her. Surely she just needed to wake up a bit more. She took a big bite of pancake just to show him that she really was going to eat it. She swallowed with difficulty and realized that it was extraordinarily hot in the room. She listlessly fanned herself with a paper napkin.

"Doctor?" she ventured to ask. "Do you think we could make it a little cooler in here? I'm positively roasting." She regretted it the minute the words were out of her mouth. She could practically smell the fussing coming. Immediately, the Doctor's bright grin faded into a frown.

"First you're not hungry – for your _favorite _meal, besides fish and chips, no less – and now you're hot? You sure you're alright?" He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he rose and started around the table towards her. Defeated and worn out, Rose sank back in her chair and closed her eyes briefly. They snapped open again when she felt a cool hand on her forehead.

"Rose Tyler, you are burning up! I mean, you're normally hot to me anyway; my body temperature is naturally lower than yours, but this! It's like you're on _fire_!" She shivered. His hand felt icy against her skin and suddenly she was so very, very cold. All she wanted was to sleep, sleep in her TARDIS bed, buried under layers of covers.

"Rose? Rose, stay with me now, you have to stay with me. Stay awake now, yeah, that's a good girl." As he scooped her up, he noted with concern how heavy her body felt, how hot she was. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, making her look so very young. And vulnerable. His hearts thudded in his chest as he tried not to think of what he'd do if anything happened to her. He banished that thought from his mind and raced for the Infirmary.

* * *

The next three days, for the Doctor, were a blur of muttered prayers and shouted curses. He took up residence beside Rose's bed in the infirmary, daring not to look away or even blink, lest he miss something crucial. He obsessively monitored her vital signs, to the point where her normal heart and respiration rates seemed to be imprinted on the backs of his eyelids.

_Don't blink_. Well, Rose Tyler wasn't exactly a weeping angel, though he could certainly argue the _angel_ point.

For Rose, the three days were a groggy fog of semi-consciousness. Mostly she swirled about in an odd dream-like state, only waking briefly to feel a cool washcloth on her forehead or the Doctor's comforting hand in hers. Her restless nightmares were full of Daleks and Slitheen, all chasing her, cackling in a strange high-pitched tone, trying to tear her away from the Doctor.

"_Exterminate_!" With a gasp, Rose awoke fully, jolted out of the nightmare, choking and sobbing with fear. She scrambled around in a blind panic, thrashing about on the bed, until she felt the Doctor's arms encircle her.

"Shh, it's alright, Rose, it's okay, I'm here." He soothed, holding her tightly. He pulled back to get a good look at her, and brushed a lock of sweaty blonde hair out of her face. Her skin was clammy, but no longer burning.

"Your fever's broken!" he announced jovially, trying not to let her know how scared he had been. He sensed she knew anyway.

"Well," she sighed. "That was an unpleasant experience." She was downplaying it, and he knew it. They had known each other too long now to keep going with these shielded truths and half-lies. But if it made her feel better, he wasn't going to argue. Abruptly, he stood up.

"Would you like a cuppa?" he asked, the words rushed. "I mean, I just thought, you know, it might be a good thing, considering you've been….sick and all that." She nodded slowly.

"That would be nice." He half turned to leave the infirmary and she caught him lightly by the wrist.

"Doctor?"

"Yeah?"

"Make yourself a cuppa, too. You look like you need it." He smiled. She had no idea that he hadn't moved from her bedside for three days. Or maybe she did.

"Alright then. Off for tea, yeah? _Allons-y!_" Her wonderful giggles followed him down the corridor as he thanked whatever deity happened to be listening at the moment that she had recovered. It had been touch and go there, for a while. But now that she was out of danger, he realized, as he brought two steaming cups of tea back the infirmary, that there was really no place he'd rather be, then on the TARDIS with his lovely pink and yellow girl.

* * *

A/N: This, um, got a bit more shippy than I meant it to. And by a bit, I mean a lot. So sorry to anyone who's not into the shippiness. I was going through Rose withdrawal.


End file.
